


Blood of the Covenant

by Katyakora



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/M, Vampire AU, vampire!Iris, vampire!Leonard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 20:55:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6255460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katyakora/pseuds/Katyakora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scent of blood in the dead of night. A choice to make. A life to lose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because every ship needs a vampire AU

It was a crisp spring night, the moon bright and gibbous through the city’s smog, when Leonard Snart caught the scent of blood. It was sweet and vibrant, the distinctive tang of oxidation spilling out into the night air. Instinct, more than will, sent his senses out idly questing for the source. A barely-there pulse graced the edge of his hearing, less of a beat and more of a tremble, the over-taxed organ struggling to go through the motions.

 

Curiosity guided his steps until there she was, stretched across a dark alleyway like a macabre roadblock. Her blouse is a deceptive red, but there is a darkness over her ribs, the source of the scent soaking through the fabric and smeared across the alley. There is evidence that she has crawled an impressive distance, considering the severity of her wounds. Yet her destination, a dirty and cracked phone, still lay a good three feet from her outstretched fingers.

 

It is futile. No matter who she calls, she is beyond help.

 

She can barely breath with a punctured lung, yet still she struggles, whimpering and weakening as she valiantly attempts to reach the phone. It is pity that moves him to step out of the shadows, kneeling to pluck the phone out of the dirt. He intended to tell her to call her loved ones and say her goodbyes. The words die on his lips as he finally caught sight of her face in the moonlight.

 

Even deathly pale and coated in blood and dirt, he recognised Iris West.

 

This changes things.

 

Her tenacity and her struggle make far more sense now, for he knows her to be a woman of indomitable will. There is a spark of recognition in her dark eyes and he knows what is coming.

 

“H...help...mee…” she managed to wheeze out. He looked her over with a clinical eye, but her condition had only worsened.

 

“There is no doctor who can save you now,” he said, not unkindly. Gently, he brushed a bloody, matted lock of hair out of her eyes. “Make your peace, Iris.” He expected the light in her eyes to fade, for her to give up in the face of the inevitable. Instead, it burns brighter.

 

“P...p...ple..lease,” she begged through a mouthful of blood. Still, she held on. Leonard couldn’t help but be impressed by her strength. A whim took root in his mind, small and ridiculous, but it quickly grew. It was a risk, and he knew he was setting himself up for the kind of responsibility  he’d sworn he’d never take. Yet it seemed such a pity that this vibrant, tenacious woman would meet her end in this way. She was a fighter, given a chance she may yet survive. 

 

“You will not thank me for this,” he told her, cradling her face in one hand. He bit the inside of his lip, letting the blood well up and coat his tongue. Gently, he pressed his lips to hers, letting their blood mingle as he pushed his tongue past her slack lips. In that moment, he willed her to change.

  
In her chest, her heart stopped beating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I can't stop adding to this, I decided to post it here. Can't guarantee updates, this comes when my muse does.


	2. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris learns her fate

Iris West woke screaming. Every joint ached, every muscle burned, every nerve cried and yet none of it compared to the agony in her throat and stomach. She was only dimly aware of a body at her back, of the strong arms that restrained her flailing limbs. An incredible scent hit the air and she felt like she couldn’t breathe for the sheer need of it. Something luke-warm and wet was pressed to her lips.

 

“Drink,” a familiar voice commanded, although she couldn’t think to place it. “It will make you strong.”

 

Blindly, she latched onto the morsel, the source of that delectable scent now flooding her mouth. She barely registered the taste, too intent on how the heavenly liquid soothed her throat and filled the gnashing pit in her belly. She felt a low, melodious hum rumble through the chest at her back, soothing her like a purr. She relaxed into the arms of the one who held her, lulled by an instinctive trust. Tender fingers wiped the stray drops from her lips and sleep pulled her under to the sway of gentle rocking.

  
  


The next time she woke, the pain in her body was gone. She was simply impossibly thirsty. She felt strange though, a haze hovering around her thoughts and at the edge of her nerves. Recent memory slowly trickled to the foreground of her mind. She had been stabbed, yet she felt no pain where the wound should have been. Perhaps she was in a hospital. Iris remembered being alone in the dark, knowing death was coming. She remembered whispered words and glowing eyes, a question and a promise.

 

_ You will not thank me for this. _

 

She didn’t understand, not yet, but the strange haze and the burn in her throat told her she would. Once she could think. Once she’d had a drink. 

 

Slowly, Iris blinked her eyes open, the low light harsh after the blissful dark. She lay on a soft bed in an unfamiliar room. Someone had changed her out of her bloody clothes into a man’s t-shirt and boxers. A calming scent surrounded her, something like hot chocolate and copper caught in a chill winter wind. Her pillow was firm and warm, a strange, languid beat pulsing through it every few seconds. 

 

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” that familiar voice drawled above her. “So to speak.” 

 

Her pillow was a thigh, with the slowest heartbeat she’d ever heard. She scrambled up and away, almost falling off the bed in the process. He didn’t move, just studied her with those intense blue eyes.

 

“Leonard Snart.” It felt like her heart should be racing, she should be terrified by the entirety of her situation. But every one of her instincts was screaming that she was safe. “What...what did you do to me?” Her voice was hoarse and her saliva felt irritatingly thick.

 

“I helped you. Like you asked,” he responded mildly. Iris tried to think, to remember exactly what had been said, but the haze slowed her thoughts and there was an annoyingly distracting drumming at the edge of her hearing. 

 

“You’re thirsty,” Leonard stated, like it was exactly what he expected. She nodded slowly, trying to swallow around the fire in her throat. He got up off the bed, telegraphing his movements to keep her at ease. “Come on, I had something special delivered for you.” He offered her a hand, waiting patiently for her to choose to take it. She stared at the offered limb, torn. She wanted to trust and she wanted to run and she wanted to curl up on the bed and hide from the world. But there was still a drum beating in the distance, impossible to ignore and if nothing else, he was offering her something to quench her thirst. 

 

Delicately, she took his offered hand. He smiled encouragingly and at any other time, Iris might have appreciated how handsome he looked when he smiled. As it was, she simply let herself be led down the hall and a set of stairs, still keeping an arm's-length of distance between them. The sound of drums got louder until she stood in the kitchen feeling them pounding against her skull. Iris stepped towards the sink, intending to ease her thirst, but his hand in hers pulled her back. 

 

“That won’t help.” His words made her irrationally frustrated and an angry hiss dove past her teeth. She had no idea where the impulse came from, but at the time it seemed to be the perfect way to express her annoyance. He simply smirked indulgently at her display and gripped the pantry handle. “I have what you need in here.” He opened the door.

 

The haze dissipated in an instant as every one of Iris’ senses found a single focus. It wasn’t drums she had been hearing, but the racing heart of the terrified man tied up in the pantry. The reek of fear was not enough to hide the delicious scent that promised relief. She felt a sharp ache in her jaw and even across the room she could pick out the individual droplets of sweat forming on the delicate skin that covered his jumping pulse.

 

A rabid compulsion pulled her, sending her across the room before she was even aware she was moving. Too sharp teeth tore easily through musky skin and muscle to reach the hot, exquisite liquid within. The first pull was enough to soothe her burning throat but not the aching pit in her belly. She drank deeply, the useless struggles of her prey rapidly weakening as she sucked the life from him, heedless of the mess she was making. All that mattered was satisfying her terrible need.

 

Soon, the weakened heartbeat stuttered and ceased and there was no more precious fluid to take. Slowly, she pulled out her teeth, the corpse falling unceremoniously to the floor as her senses finally returned. She stared down at the body, not really seeing it but knowing she should feel  _ something _ . But the sight stirred no more emotion than that of a cow carcass in a butcher’s shop.

 

A warm cloth caressed her jaw, careful hands wiping away the evidence of her meal. She looked up at Leonard, unaware of her glowing red irises and the impressive new teeth she still sported.

 

“Don’t worry,” he assured her soothingly. “It gets easier.”

 

“Why?” she asked, feeling lost and oddly grateful for his presence. “Why don’t I feel anything?”

 

“The change is more than physical.”

 

She hissed again and stepped sharply back from him. “You did this to me!” she spat.

 

“Would you have prefered death?” he asked calmly, one eyebrow raised. “That can still be arranged.”

 

“No,” she admitted, still eyeing him suspiciously. “I just don’t understand.” Her eyes moved back to the body on the ground. “He’s dead and I just don’t care.” She looked back at him, the red slowly leaching out of her eyes to return to their original brown. “So why did you care? Why not leave me to die in that alley? Or better yet, have an easy meal?”

 

He snorted. “There was barely a mouthful left in you, I wouldn’t even have called you a snack.” He stepped forward into her space, oozing a predatory grace that made her heart thump and her blood sizzle. “You know, I never understood why anyone would want to become a sire,” he said quietly, his voice a low, seductive purr that still resonated with power. Iris didn’t back down, and a wicked smirk curved his lips. “But you are just delightful.” One slender finger traced the curve of her cheek down to her jaw, lightly gripping her chin. The touch made her shiver. “It takes an incredible strength of will to survive the change. You were at death’s door, and yet here you are, not even a full day later, standing on your own two feet and... hissing at me, for saving your life.” An unexpected wave of contrition hit her and she fought to keep her posture defiant. “Do you have any idea how rare that is?” Their faces were inches apart and he was looking at her intently like she was the most fascinating piece of art he’d ever seen. “You offered an opportunity, Iris, one I chose to take.”

 

“Becoming a an undead minion wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I asked for your help.”

 

“I told you that you wouldn’t thank me,” he reminded her. “And if I wanted a minion, I wouldn’t have bothered turning you. They’re supposed to be expendable.”

 

Iris frowned at him suspiciously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“Can’t you feel it?” His expression shifted, something soft at the edges that reminded her of her father. How he’d look at her like she was something precious, to be protected at all costs. With the visceral scent of blood slowly dissipating, she once again caught that calming scent, which she now realised came from him. She chased it, needing that sense of peace and protection, finding herself instinctively slipping into his arms. He automatically embraced her, one hand cupping the back of her neck gently. It felt like coming home and she was fairly certain she was crying silent tears into his shirt. She loathed that he made her feel this way, that she could hate him and yet could find comfort in his arms.

  
“I am your Sire. Now, until the end, we are bound. The strength of that bond will fade with time, if we let it,” he explained softly, lightly petting her hair. “You’re my responsibility now, Iris. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Her knees sagged and he easily took her full weight. She felt heavy and sated, sleep pulling at her now that her thirst was quenched. He lifted her into a bridal carry and she didn’t protest, simply cuddling close, a primal part of her savouring the contact. Upon returning to the bedroom, he didn’t place her down, instead sat himself against the headboard, cradling her in his lap as the darkness claimed her. 


	3. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to talk

Instinct was something Leonard had long since learned to master. Precision and control had been why his own sire had chosen him, on that cold December night when he had crept unsuspecting into the beast’s home. Leonard was not ruled by his inhuman nature, and had assumed gaining a progeny would change nothing. Thus, he had been unprepared for the intensity of their new bond, unable to fight the incessant compulsion to protect, to nurture. In truth, the entire experience had been enlightening, knowing the mechanics and what to expect paled to the reality of it, much like childbirth. Leonard had been overwhelmed by the pride that blossomed within him when she stood on her own two feet, not even a day old, and took to her first feeding with gusto and barely a prompt.

 

She had been beautiful, eyes glowing as crimson as the blood dripping down her chin. Leonard had never felt much affinity for his own kind, but in that moment the appeal had been tangible. Something inside him had ached at her lost and helpless voice, his every instinct roaring at him to comfort and guide her. And she was strong, so strong, showing defiance and anger despite the fact that her own instincts would have been begging her to obey and submit. In truth, it was that aspect of her that he found the most appealing. He had no interest in a sycophantic slave nor a weak-willed child. 

 

Iris was neither of those things. He had expected the anger. The person she was would not easily reconcile with what she had become. As the source of her change, he became the object of her ire, despite the fact that his actions had saved her. He wondered if she would ever forgive him. He’d taken a choice from her, opening the gates of eternity, the endless march of time now stretched out ahead of her. He found himself hoping she would forgive him, if only because he knew how lonely a prospect that was. At least now they would endure time’s march together.

 

The house creaked and the air shifted, the soft rustle of fabric and a sudden intake of breath evidence that Iris was finally stirring. He didn’t move, simply listened to the soft susurrus of movement in the bedroom. Eventually, the floorboards sang the soundtrack of footsteps making their way towards and down the stairs. He watched as Iris made her way down to the first floor, her gaze focused on the front door. 

 

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

 

Iris whirled around and froze, startled. They were going to have to work on her spacial awareness. “Why not?” she demanded.

 

“Have you forgotten this morning?” he asked conversationally as he stood from his armchair. “Your reaction to being in the presence of a human being? I’ll bet you could barely think for the sound of his heartbeat.” The memory of his own first meal had never left him, he doubted it would ever leave her either.

 

“What's your point?” she snapped. He leveled her with an intense stare, trapping her in his gaze as he prowled across the room.

 

“My point is that you will not set foot outside this house until I have deemed you capable of controlling yourself.” He finished speaking standing in front of her, the picture of authority. Still, Iris did not cower, instead she stood strong and defiant. A primal part of him purred with pride.

 

“So I'm your prisoner?” she assumed. Len looked down at her with exasperation.

 

“Where were you planning on going, Iris?” he drawled. “The police? Do you remember how it felt this morning, sucking the life out of that man? How do you think it will feel when you've torn the throat out of every person in the precinct? When you watch the life drain out of your father's eyes? Or maybe you'll go straight for Barry; all the extra oxygen in his blood makes him smell particularly irresistible. I imagine a newborn like you would have no chance of resisting.”

 

“Fine, you’ve made your point,” she snapped, throwing her hands up in frustration. She pushed past him and threw herself down onto the couch. “Honestly, I'm surprised I care at all.” 

 

“The people who mattered before still matter. Now, more than ever.” The reassurance was sincere and the look she gave him was searching.

 

“So what the hell am I supposed to do? Stay locked up in here with you? What about my job, my family?” she asked, a little more rational now that her anger had ebbed. He smirked at her.

 

“You’re about to come down with a very nasty, highly contagious virus that will keep you quarantined in your apartment for a couple weeks. That should be long enough for you to at least get a handle on things.”

 

“Not gonna work,” she stated flatly.

 

“And why not?” 

 

She gave him a disdainful look. “Because in addition to calling me every hour to check up on me, my father  _ will _ leave a constant supply of chicken soup and tissue boxes outside my front door. Don’t you think that my dad, the  _ detective _ , might get a little suspicious when they start piling up or when I won’t even talk to him through the door?”

 

“Then what would you suggest?” he asked with a sigh and a scowl.

 

“Uh, tell them the truth?” she stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. He rolled his eyes.

 

“So you’re just going to call your father,  _ the detective _ ,” he mimicked her mockingly, “and tell him that you killed a man this morning?” She glared at him and huffed, but he wasn’t done. “Are you going to tell him how you drank his corpse dry in seconds? Are you actually going to tell him that you need to drink blood to survive? How, given dire enough circumstances, you would eat him?”

 

“Stop it!” Iris shouted, leaping to her feet.

 

“You’re a  _ vampire _ , Iris,” he hissed in her face, letting a little crimson bleed into his irises. She flinched when he said that word, her new reality thrown into the daylight, impossible to deny. “There is a certain level of secrecy you’re going to have to accept.”

 

“You think I don't get that? In case you didn't notice, my life has just been torn to shreds. It’s gonna take me a little time to come to terms with that, so I'd appreciate it if you stopped being an asshole about everything and gave me some goddamn straight answers!” she yelled, finishing her angry tirade by jabbing him in the chest. He looked thoughtfully down at the point of contact then back at her.

 

“You’re right,” he sighed, stepping back out of her space. “I haven't been particularly forthcoming. Old habit. You’ll have to forgive me, my sire was somewhat brusque and I've never done this before.”

 

“Never?” She frowned. “I'm your first…?”

 

“I never had any interest in the kind of responsibility that came with progeny. So yes, you are the first.”

 

She looked like she wanted to ask why again, but thought better of it. He was glad, he didn't really have an answer for his sudden change of heart. He gestured back to the living room and she grudgingly returned to her seat. He sat on an armchair opposite where she had curled up on the couch, her knees tucked protectively into her chest. He fought the instinct to go over and wrap her in his arms, highly doubting the contact would be welcome.

 

“So, I guess I should ask what I need to know now that I'm a literal monster.”  He considered an appropriate answer, but she spoke before he could. “How old are you?” she asked suddenly.

 

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Why is that always the first thing everyone asks?” he muttered with a put-upon sigh.

 

“Well it's not like I can tell by looking at you.”

 

“If you must know, I'm 51.”

 

She frowned. “Physically?”

 

“Chronologically. I was 39 when I was turned. We’re not all centuries old, you know.”

 

“Makes sense.”  

 

He cocked his head. “You seem surprised?”

 

She shrugged. “Sort of assumed you’d be ancient. Makes sense though. It’s not like you start out being centuries old.”

 

“You’d be surprised how few of us make it to the century mark.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

He regarded her for a moment, wondering if it was perhaps too soon for this particular conversation. It was ultimately unavoidable, but admittedly, he didn’t know her well enough to accurately predict how she’d react. He didn’t want to make any more of a mess of this than he already had. Her eyes sparked with an inquisitive light and he was reminded that she made her living uncovering secrets. 

 

“Those who choose this life,” he began slowly, choosing his words carefully, “Are not often good people. They tend to get themselves killed, usually by pissing off the wrong people. Those who do not choose this,” he paused, feeling the true weight of his whim as though it were a chain around his neck. “For many of them, death is preferable to the idea of an eternity as a monster.” He watched her carefully, trying to gauge her thoughts.

 

“They kill themselves.” A soft statement, a certainty barely heard. Their eyes met and something in her expression shifted. “I’m not going to do that.” That was unexpected. He had not even been aware of his own fear until her soft words assuaged it. He broke eye contact, hating the havoc his instincts were playing on his emotions.

 

“Good, I would hate to have wasted all this effort.” He shrugged it off, getting settled in his chair. “Now, there is a lot you need to know. Pay attention, save your questions until I’m done.” She frowned, but leaned back into the couch, tucking her legs underneath her. He had forgotten she was wearing his clothes, their scents mixing in a pleasant way so there was no doubt who she belonged to. He chased that thought away, knowing it was just his primal nature bleeding through.

 

He spoke at length, explaining all the biological changes, the needs and restrictions that went hand in hand. He separated myth and pop culture from fact, and gave a quick overview of the politics she’d need to know in order not to get herself killed. There was a verbal lesson in hunting, in preparation for a practical lesson later. She listened avidly as he spoke, and when he was done her questions were succinct and intelligent. He answered all he could, and for a while they were just two people, sitting together having a discussion. It was a novel feeling, one that Len found himself unexpectedly savouring.

 

The pleasant atmosphere ended when Iris stopped mid-sentence, a strange look of horrified realisation on her face.

 

“Something wrong?” he asked.

 

She blushed lightly. “I’m...I think I’m getting hungry.” This was hardly surprising. They had been sitting talking for several hours now. Her body was burning through the change quickly, it was likely she would be ready for her first hunt as early as the next night.

 

“Don’t be embarrassed by your needs. They’re nothing to be ashamed of.” He rolled up the sleeve of one arm, holding it out in offering. “Here.”

 

She gaped at him in disbelief. “You want me to...drink you?” 

 

“You’re still changing,” he explained patiently. “My blood will ease the process and make you stronger. You also won’t need as much.”

 

“If you really think I’m gonna-”

 

Wordlessly, Len sank a fang into the soft skin at the crook of his elbow, the scent of blood hitting the air enough to cut her off. Her gaze instantly focused in on the precious red flowing sluggishly from his pale skin. Her irises bled crimson and she fidgeted stubbornly for a moment before stomping to her feet.

 

“Evil bastard,” Iris muttered as she prowled across the room. She took the offered limb roughly and he responded with nothing more than an indulgent smirk. 

 

The touch of her lips to his skin sent a jolt through his body, her fangs penetrating him with a divine sting which made him shiver. Her tongue probed the wound, drawing out more and sending lightning through his system. At some point during her nursing she ended up sitting in Len’s lap, his arm cradled around her. He tried to breathe deep and even to calm his own reaction to the unexpectedly exquisite sensations, but all that achieved was drowning in the their mixed scents accented with his own blood. 

 

Soon, he had to pull away, gently extricating his arm from her jaws. She whined, chasing the retreating morsel before catching herself, bolting to her feet and scarlet with mortification. It didn't stop her from running a thumb over the plushness of her lower lip to suckle off any stray drops. She truly was unaware of how enticing she could be.

 

“Here.” He tossed her a phone to replace her broken one. “Make whatever arrangements you need to, I don't care what as long as you're left alone for a while. Then we should both get some rest, I'm taking you hunting tomorrow.” She nodded distractedly as she tapped away at the tiny device. Len headed upstairs, confident she wouldn't do anything foolish now that she understood the consequences, glad to steal a few moments alone to centre himself. He had just settled against the headboard with a book when she entered the bedroom and balked.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

He looked up at her but otherwise didn't move. “I like to read before bed,” he answered lightly, knowing full well that wasn't what she was asking.

 

“In  _ my _ bed?”

 

“Actually, its  _ my _ bed,” Len corrected her, putting his book down. “And whatever you're thinking, stop. You're instincts are new, so they're going to be a little haywire until you get used to them. They will not let you sleep unless you're somewhere safe and as far as your primitive brain is concerned,  _ I  _ am safety. So you can either be stubborn and toss and turn in the guestroom for a few hours, or you can save us both a lot of time and get in the damn bed.”

 

“I'll take my chances with the guestroom,” she sneered, turning on her heel and stomping down the hall. Leonard sighed at her retreating form and picked up his book. He gave her an hour, tops. His own instincts begged him to follow, to protect her in her vulnerable slumber, but he resisted. He couldn't force her to accept this, she needed to come to him on her own.

 

Sure enough, a little under two hours later, light feet crept down the hall, slipping soundlessly into his bedroom.

 

“Don't say it,” she whispered mutinously as she slipped into the other side of the bed. He didn't comment, simply turned out the light. He could see quite well in the dark, and her supine form was clear in the dark.

 

“You have nothing to fear from me,” he murmured into the night. She rolled over to face him, clearly a little startled by how well she could see.

  
“You'll forgive me for being skeptical,” she whispered dryly. Leonard couldn't help the fond smile that stretched his lips. A strong little spitfire with a sense of humour to boot. He couldn't have chosen better if he'd tried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all I've written so far. It's kind of an experiment.


	4. Afterthoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris takes her first steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sat down to work on Cold Truth and wrote this instead....oh well, at least something got updated.

The rain hit the windowpane to a none too gentle beat, the wind whistling harshly through the garden’s many trees. Iris lay still, watching the soft light from a distant streetlamp bend through the droplets. The falling rain was not near loud enough to drown out the sluggish heartbeat behind her, nor the soft, scattered breaths no living man could survive on. The scent and sense of home and safety surrounded her and she hated it. She hated herself for her weakness as she breathed deep to savour it.

 

Iris had never been a creature driven by hate or spite, although her passion and sense of justice occasionally came close. The man behind her deserved her hate. He may have given her a reprieve from the oblivion of death, but that did not make him any less a murderer and a thief. That she now struggled to find reasons to care about those crimes was simply another mark against him. He had spoken the truth that night, for she would never thank him for what he had made her.

 

Yet a part of her, the animal he had awoken within her, wanted nothing more than to cross the careful space between them and rest on the sweet embrace of her sire. That slow, steady heartbeat was an assurance of safety, his languid breathing a promise of protection. She would not have thought a monster capable of the gentle patience he had shown her. The beast in her veins called out to him, like a fledgling crying for it’s mother. Fighting that call was not easy, especially when she knew he would answer, that he was already reaching across the divide, waiting for her to make the choice.  She hated him for making it her choice, for making her accept what he offered. The dichotomy of instinct and knowledge, trust and hate, need and want, churned within her. The storm beyond the window mimicked her mental state, the dark, ominous thunderclouds roiling to the distant roar of thunder.

 

Iris was not a creature driven by fear, yet she could not deny that she was afraid. She feared what she had become and what she was capable of. The ease with which her control had slipped away that morning, how little she cared that she had taken a man’s life, the sheer satisfaction she had felt as she filled her belly with his blood, it all terrified her. The thought that she was now the greatest danger to her loved ones scared her the most. Leonard had said those who mattered before meant more now, and she could feel that truth in her bones. Her memories of her family became shining lights through shadows, memories of her friends now vibrant colours in a murky sea. She didn’t care about the stranger who had died to slake her thirst, but she knew she would flay any soul foolish enough to harm her family, without hesitation.

 

In the end, her fear outweighed her desire to hate. As lightning split the clouds she rolled onto her other side, finally looking at the man who lay next to her. In the barest light, wrapped in the magic of midnight, she let herself appreciate how handsome he was. Her eyes mapped the sharp angles of his jaw, the plush pink of his parted lips, the proud line of his nose, the shadows around eyes she knew would open to reveal the most intense and vibrant blue she’d ever seen. In slumber he was deceptively harmless, no trace of the demon within on his face. 

 

She closed her eyes as she gently, tentatively slipped one hand into his. If she left now, he would know. If she lost control, he would contain her. The animal in her heart purred happily in an echo of the rolling thunder when her act was followed by the barest hint of tightening fingers.

* * *

 

Under the dim street lamps of the city’s rougher district, every shadow was painted as a grim beast stalking in one’s wake. A couple walked briskly through the night, tucked close together as if the mere proximity of the other might ward off the city’s darker elements. The click of heels on concrete rang out as a sharp staccato accompanied by the distant rumble of cars carried on the breeze from parts of the city that never slept. 

 

A shadow melted out of an alleyway, bright eyes tracking the couple. It followed them through the twisting streets, getting closer and closer until the couple’s breathing quickened in fear. Yet still they keep walking, lost lambs being led to slaughter. When the couple turned down a dark, deserted side street, three predators grinned matching, hungry grins.

 

The couple’s shadow had only just palmed a weapon when the woman spun on her heel and slammed his head against the brick of an old factory wall. Pain burst through his skull and blood from his split skin. Stunned, he slumped, now supported entirely by a dainty hand that should not have had the strength to take his weight. Through blurred vision he saw red, unable to say if it was his blood or her dress. He knew only pain, the couple’s words to each other unintelligible, as though he heard them speak from under water. And then he was lost to a strange floating sensation that left him lethargic and drained. Above his soon to be unconscious form, two predators grinned matching, crimson grins.

 

Iris could already feel how it was different this time. Instead of full and drowsy she felt energetic and, most of all,  _ alive _ . Her whole body buzzed, an indescribable feeling welling up inside of her.

 

“Shall we run?” Leonard asked, a knowing glint in his eye.

 

“Yes,” Iris agreed breathily, that sounded like exactly what she needed. Leonard’s smirk turned impish.

 

“Let’s see how fast you are. Catch me if you can.” With that, he was gone. Iris didn’t think, she simply followed, her feet beating against the ground and her fleeing prey the only things she was aware of. A near hysterical giggle drifted out of her throat as she embraced the exquisite feeling of pure freedom. She was unstoppable.

 

Ahead of her, Leonard easily scaled a fire escape at inhuman speed and she followed him up, their race continuing over the rooftops of the industrial district. She let a whoop of joy escape her as they leapt the spaces between the buildings, genuine joy filling her for the first time since she woke up in Leonard’s bed. Her enhanced senses gave her a view of the night like nothing she had ever experienced, she had never felt so connected to her environment as she did now. She saw Leonard leap, could see from the shift of his weight and the amount of force he used just where he intended to land. She pounced half a second behind him, and as his feet hit the soft grass of the park below, she hit him. They tumbled together across the dirty lawn, heedless of the litter and fallen leaves. The roll descended into a playful wrestle as they tried to pin each other. A look of pleasant surprise worked its way onto Leonard’s features as Iris showed more than a passing knowledge of grappling, forcing him to actually put effort into staying free of her holds. Iris giggled freely and they were both surprised when Leonard gave a genuine laugh. Despite both of their expectations, they were having fun.

 

Iris caught herself, releasing him and sitting back on her haunches in the dirt. This wasn’t supposed to be fun. The energetic euphoria her meal had provided slipped away, leaving her feeling as though she’d been dumped in icy water. Leonard appeared to pick up on her change in mood rather quickly.

 

“That should be enough for tonight. In a couple of days I’ll take you through hunting in a club.”

 

“Can’t I just live off muggers and rapists?” Iris whined with a pout, making Leonard chuckle dryly.

 

“As tempting as that may be, you need to vary your hunting ground to keep anyone from noticing a pattern.”

 

She hesitated for a moment before asking the question that had been weighing on her mind. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? To put me in a room packed with people?”

 

“You’ll be fine. Your control is coming along nicely and if it ever looks like you’re about to lose control, I swear I’ll get you out of there,” he assuaged her reasonably.

  
She didn’t doubt him. Since her change, she had trusted him on an instinctive level, something she had fought tooth and nail, yet the more time she spent with him, the more she questioned why she still fought. Leonard had been true to his word in every way. He was a demanding yet understanding tutor, patiently guiding her through her first steps in this new life. But she refused to let her reasons for hating him slip away, even if she had to keep reminding herself what they were.


	5. Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this is what I end up writing when nothing else wants to be written.

Leonard had never bickered with anyone so much in his life. And considering he had a younger sibling, that was saying something. When he was teaching her, Iris was a model student, but every other time he opened his mouth all he got was arguments and questions in response. It was both infuriatingly frustrating and wonderfully challenging.

 

A week passed in each other’s company and they seemed to slowly reach a tentative equilibrium. She still slept in his bed, despite the fact her instincts must have calmed by now. Leonard didn’t mind, his own primal side purring happily every time he woke to find her snuggled against his side. He supposed it was habit for her now, although she still looked mortified every time she woke to find she’d latched onto him in her sleep.

 

The sound of the doorbell resonated through the house, disturbing the quiet afternoon air.  Leonard was on his feet and at the door the moment he realised what he was hearing, the scent on the other side more familiar to him than any other. Uncannily aware of Iris as always, he tensed as she moved through the house, curious at the first visitor she was aware of. Leonard cursed under his breath as his sister knocked obnoxiously at the heavy wooden door, obviously getting impatient. He fought down his frustrations as he wrenched the door open.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, using his body to prevent her entry. “I told you to leave it on the doorstep.

 

“You’ve been holed up in here for over a week,” Lisa pouted prettily as she complained. “Then, out of nowhere, you ask me to break into some random chick’s apartment and steal her  _ clothes _ .” She shoved a stuffed bag into his chest unceremoniously for emphasis. “What the hell is going on, Lenny?” 

 

They narrowed their eyes at each other, both siblings prepared to enter into a high stakes staring contest, but were interrupted by Iris descending the stairs. Her eyes focused intently on Lisa, her irises flooding crimson as her nostrils filled with the scent of a living human being. Leonard growled low in his throat, a clear warning as he shifted, blocking Iris’ line of sight with his body. The young vampire just rolled her eyes at the display.

 

“Relax, I’m not gonna take a bite out of her,” she assured him in a grumble. Leonard didn’t move, ignoring how Lisa was now looking at the pair of them incredulously.

 

“Lenny...did you... _ actually turn somebody _ ?”she asked slowly. Leonard absolutely did not squirm under her judging gaze.

 

“Are those mine?” Iris demanded, stepping closer and pointing at the bag Leonard had forgotten he was holding. He failed to suppress the reflexive growl as she approached. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, she’s safe, all right? Honestly, she reeks of you, I probably couldn’t bite her if I wanted to.”

 

“Hey!” Lisa apparently took offense to that. “I do not reek!”

 

“I meant you don’t smell like food,” Iris appeased her, snatching the bag from Leonard and rifling through it. She pulled out a scrap of cloth, frowning. “Did you try this on?” she asked the other woman incredulously.

 

“I wanted to see if I could pull off that colour,” Lisa answered honestly with a shrug, entirely unapologetic.

 

“You don’t have the complexion for this shade of purple,” Iris said absently as she rifled through the bag. Their banter was enough to get Leonard to relax a little, finally letting go of the door-jam so Lisa could actually come inside. He watched Iris stiffen momentarily as the other woman entered, but it only lasted a moment. Her control really was improving at an impressive rate. Lisa was more interested in interrogating Leonard. 

 

“Lenny...” Lisa began slowly, her arms crossed as she eyed him sternly. “I seem to recall you using the words ‘never’ and ‘over my smoking corpse’ when I asked you about the possibility of turning anyone.”

 

“Then you’ll recall I used those words when asked about the possibility of turning  _ you _ .”

 

“Same thing.”

 

“It’s really not. Not everyone survives, Lisa, you know this,” he snapped. Iris was doing a valiant job of appearing to be engrossed with the contents of her bag, but there was really no way she wasn’t listening to every word.

 

“But you’ll happily gamble and attach yourself to some random girl’s life for eternity?”

 

“She’s not random and she was dying anyway,” he groused. Lisa arched an eyebrow pointedly, looking back and forth between Leonard and Iris. He sighed. “Lisa, this is Iris West...an associate of the Flash.”

 

Iris’ head snapped up, leveling Leonard with a murderous glare. She opened her mouth to express her displeasure at his casual revealing of her connection to Barry, but Lisa beat her to it.

 

“You turned a friend of the FLASH?” she shrieked at a painful volume. Leonard winced and Iris dropped the bag to slap her palms over her ears. “Are you actually insane?”

 

“Relax, Sis, I  _ saved _ a friend of the Flash. Besides, I have no intention of ever telling him about this.” The last part was spoken at Iris, who simply gave him an unimpressed look. How much she could tell her friends and family had been a recurring argument over the last week. Lisa’s opinion was similarly derisive.

 

“Oh yeah? Like you had no intention of me ever finding out?” 

 

“Lise, that was years ago, I've gotten a lot better at hiding.”

 

“If you think I'm going to let you use my connection to the Flash against him, you're a moron,” Iris interjected icily. Leonard abandoned one front to fight on another.

 

“Calm down, Iris, the Flash and I have a deal that works for me. I don't need to use you when I already have all the leverage I need.”

 

“Then what does my connection to the Flash have to do with anything?”

 

“Wait, aren't you that reporter? The one who writes all the Flash articles?” Lisa interrupted, eyeing Iris shrewdly.

 

“Yes, I write about the Flash,” Iris admitted tiredly, apparently over being asked that question. 

 

“Oh.” The simple acknowledgement held a wealth of understanding and Leonard felt himself tense. His sister gave him an evil grin and he felt his stomach plummet. That expression never boded well for him. “I get it now.”

 

“No, you don't,” Leonard snapped flatly with a glower.

 

“Oh, I think I do,” Lisa practically sang, her piercing eyes once more taking in Iris, who was watching their exchange in bemusement. “Well, I always wanted a sister. Let’s celebrate by going shopping!” To the surprise of the others in the room, she then strode right over to Iris and looped arms with her, apparently intent on dragging the other woman by force if need be. Once again, Iris’s eyes flashed crimson as their skin made contact with a small flinch, but otherwise didn’t react to the human woman’s presence.

 

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Iris managed to put the brakes on before Leonard had to intervene, pulling them to a stop before Lisa had hauled her out the front door. “I haven’t really been around people yet.” 

 

“Then you’ll need the practice,” Lisa countered, entirely blas é . “Don’t worry, I’m sure Lenny can keep can eye on you.”

 

“Do I get a say in this at all?” Leonard groaned, knowing full well what the answer was.

 

“Nope,” Lisa confirmed happily. “Now come on, my favourite store is having a sale and they’ve got some really cute outfits I can’t pull off that would look great on you.” 

 

Leonard sighed, but obediently grabbed his coat. Iris shot him a pleading look that he attempted to answer with a reassuring one. “You’ll be fine. I won’t let you hurt anybody.” 

 

She didn’t seem convinced, but she did square her shoulders a little in determination, so he counted it as a win. As an afterthought, he plucked a cap off the hall table and tossed it to her.

 

“What’s this for?” she asked with a frown.

 

“Remember what I told you about sunlight?”

 

“Fresh Hell. Great,” she deadpanned. He just rolled his eyes and locked the door behind them, ignoring the gleeful way Lisa watched them interact. They stepped off the porch into the mid-morning sun and Iris hissed between her teeth, dragging the cap as low over her face as it would go. Leonard winced in sympathy, having long grown used to the sting of direct sunshine himself but remembering well his first exposure.

 

Iris sighed in relief when they reached the car, but the reprieve was short lived, as their destination turned out to be only a couple of minutes away.

 

“Ugh, this is the worst sensation ever. Don’t lie, how bad is my sunburn?”

 

“Relax, you’re not actually burning,” Len reassured her in a derisive drawl as Lisa lead them to a specific boutique. “Or, you are, just no more than a normal human. You’re just more sensitive to radiation now. Especially ultra-violet.” 

 

Iris just glared at him from under the brim of her hat. “Well, I hate it. How are  _ you _ not suffering?”

 

“You get used to it.” He paused before admitting an afterthought. “And you learn to layer.”

 

It was only once they got inside, Iris once more letting out a sigh of relief, that she even registered the people around her, having been too distracted by the pain from the sun. It was strange to see the predator perk up at the scent of prey, only for the human to take over and fold her in on herself, her cap hiding crimson eyes and her ears almost touching her shoulders. Without missing a beat, Lisa intercepted the approaching salesperson and sent them away before leading Iris towards the back where no one else was browsing. Leonard felt a swell of gratitude, recalling how reassuring his little sister’s almost brusque acceptance had been when she’d learned of his condition. Iris also seemed to appreciate it, letting her shoulders relax a little as Lisa began pulling items from the racks to get her opinion.

 

The shopping trip went without any incidents of the fanged variety, however Leonard was certain by the end of it that Lisa was determined to give him a heart attack. As grateful as he was for her efforts in helping Iris become more comfortable around others, he still made a valiant attempt to kill her with a glare every time Iris stepped back into the changing room. She looked stunning in every ensemble Lisa picked out, and that was the real problem. Leonard’s attraction to Iris was something he’d been aware of in the back of his mind, but largely ignored in his clinical role as teacher and guide. But with his sister insisting on parading her in front of him in the most enticing and flattering clothes she could find, it very suddenly became a truth he could not escape. The predator in him approved, acknowledging how her allure would make hunting easier. That appealed to his baser instincts to make her all the more desirable, the beast in him recognising a favourable mate in her. Every time he managed to get a hold of his instincts, repeating to himself that  _ that _ was not what he turned her for, she’d step out in another mesmerising display and he’d have to start the process all over again. 

  
Lisa appeared to be rating each outfit based on how darkly he glared at her afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Lisa. So much.


	6. Appetites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris gets a taste of her new life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been forever. I know. I'm sorry.

The club had a heartbeat all its own. The crowd undulated in a rough imitation of a heart, pulsing in time to the bass, circulating sweat, liquor and lust throughout the space. Iris could feel the heat of the room rolling in waves with the pulse, a veritable furnace to her cooler skin. Heat from a hundred beating hearts all trying to keep time with that pulsing bass. Yet over all that, Iris was still hyper aware of the silk covered muscles pressed against the skin of her back, left bare by her dress. They swayed to the heavy beat, just another pair in the crowd. He whispered in her ear, instructions and reminders of her lessons, but all she could focus on was the gentle caress of his breath and his lips against the shell of her ear. She was hungry, but ever since they entered this place and began the charade, she began to doubt what for.

 

The miasma of artificial smoke and endlessly stuttering lightshow should have left her near blind, but her hunger seemed to keen the edges of her senses. Iris had somewhat grown used to her new perceptions but now they were almost alien in their intensity and scope. She was aware of so much she should be overwhelmed, yet a predatory focus allowed her to draw the pertinent from the minutia with almost unconscious ease. She tracked movements, scents, and even sounds despite the veritable cacophony of sensory input. She swayed in a crowd of lambs and truly felt like the wolf she was for the first time. She wasn’t connected to these people, not anymore. Iris wasn’t one of them and never would be again. The crowd pulsed around her, each an individual with their own lives, loves and aspirations, but to her eyes they were faceless.

 

The only person in that room who wasn’t was right behind her.

 

They hadn't been that close when they first walked in. Iris hadn't been oblivious to the way all eyes had fallen on them as they breezed past the line right up to the bouncer. It was hardly a surprise; Leonard's navy silk shirt and form-fitting slacks made him look like he just stepped out of a magazine, and the dress Lisa had insisted was perfect left very little to the imagination. Yet it was all the hungry eyes falling on him that had something like anger growling in her chest. He hadn't reacted when she stepped closer to his side, clearly in his space, as they reached the bouncer who let them in without a word, but there was something distinctly satisfied in his smirk. His hand slipped around her wrist as they entered the club proper, keeping her close.

 

Diving into the roiling crowd had simply pushed them closer together. Iris didn’t think it was actually possible to lose him in the crowd, not with the way her senses seemed to be uncannily attuned to him, but it was a convenient fiction that allowed her to stay firmly in his space. She knew it was all the fault of the possessive little monster at the back of her mind demanding that she stake her claim, mark her territory, but her rational mind was very pointedly not thinking about that. Reminding herself that she was supposed to barely tolerate him didn’t change the fact that she was now practically draped over him on the dancefloor, and he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. That primal part of her, the part that hungered, was purring at his touch, found the weight of the hands settled on her hips comforting. Iris wanted to be disgusted with herself, but she found that she couldn’t summon the emotion. In the dark and smoky club nothing felt real except him. It felt like he was holding his hand out to her again, asking for nothing and offering everything she wasn’t supposed to want. And just like before, she gave in and took it, letting herself get lost in the music and leaning into the pressure at her back.

 

Iris smirked at Leonard’s sudden intake of breath, at the way the fingers framing her hips twitched almost involuntarily. Her rational mind demanded to know what the hell she thought she was doing, but the monster pushed that thought aside and let the mesmerising waves of the music and the atmosphere carry her away. Unfortunately, they were here for a reason, of which Iris was reminded when his husky voice whispered for her to choose a target. She turned her head to look at him, their proximity placing their faces just inches apart, clear as day in the halflight to her inhuman eyes. There was a red ring around his clear blue irises, his fangs peeking out from behind parted lips. He looked delectable and like he wanted to devour her. Iris licked her lips as she turned back to the crowd, grinning when she heard the sharp spike in his usually languid heartbeat. This was a game she knew, familiar ground where she was the one who held all the cards. A game she must be insane for even contemplating, but she was feeling bold and reckless, and the opening move had already been made. Besides, at worst, she might come away with a new reason to hate him, since the ones she’d thought she had grew thinner every day.

 

She selected her target, a sweet young thing who it appeared had had a little too much to drink. Iris prowled across the room, missing the pressure at her back but reveling in the weight of his gaze on her. Her target quickly became enamoured with her, and it was the work of minutes to coax them into following her into a dark quiet corner where no one would notice that it wasn’t the their mouth Iris pressed her lips to. Even as the divine liquid coated her tongue, Iris heard a heartbeat spike from across the room and smiled into her meal’s skin.

 

The blood energised her, but it also did something else, something familiar yet new. She giggled as she licked the escaped drops of blood off her meal's neck, feeling them sway under her hold. Iris swayed herself as she pulled away, leaving her woozy target to slump against the wall. Iris made her way back to her sire, her predatory grace leaving her as her alcohol-infused meal did better work than a bottle of spirits ever could. She felt like she was floating back across the dancefloor, the bass buzzing under her skin as she slid between the writhing bodies. As soon as she reached him, Iris reached out and slid a hand up his arm and across his shoulders, marveling at the feel of it beneath her fingers. He watched her dance around him with hungry eyes, despite the fact that her sense of smell told her that he’d found a meal of his own while she’d been busy. She wondered if she’d be able to taste it on his lips. Without consciously thinking about it, she found herself leaning forward to find out.

 

A dancer jostled her, sending Iris into Leonard’s chest. She giggled as his strong hands caught her, a far away voice in the back of her mind wondering why she still felt like she was floating. None of her other meals had ever made her feel like this. She looked up to find Leonard’s mesmerising eyes peering down at her with concern. She felt herself grin, leaning even more heavily against him because everything just felt better the more she touched him. Leonard’s frown deepened as he cupped her jaw with one hand, steadying her so he could examine her properly.

 

“Damn. How drunk were they?” he muttered darkly to himself as he gripped her arm, practically dragging Iris out into the cool night air, her giggling the whole way. “Their blood must have been pure vodka.”

 

Iris smacked her lips. “Didn’t taste like vodka,” she slurred. She was sad to leave the warmth and pulse of the club, but Leonard was still there, which was what mattered. She moved in closer, positioning herself firmly under his arm, letting him lead her wobbling feet wherever he wanted. He looked down at her, still frowning, making her want to reach up and smooth away the lines on his brow. He caught her hand when she tried.

 

“You didn’t taste alcohol?” he demanded.

 

“Just a smidge,” Iris corrected, pinching her thumb and forefinger together and dragging the word, giggling hysterically at how silly it sounded.

 

“Shit,” Len swore, reaffirming his grip around her shoulders as he simultaneously prevented her from flicking the shiny buttons of his shirt. “And Mick wonders why I fucking hate drugs,” he muttered. Iris gasped dramatically as his words sunk through her muddled brain.

 

“Am I on drugs?” she asked. “I’m not supposed to do drugs! Don’t tell my dad!”

 

“Because I’m so inclined to tell him anything,” Leonard snapped sarcastically. “Let’s get you home. I’ve got some spare blood bags in the fridge, hopefully they’ll sober you up.”

 

“You take such good care of me,” Iris informed him earnestly, nuzzling her head into his shoulder. His shirt felt amazing against her skin and she decided he should wear it forever. “Why you take good care of me? I’m such a bitch to you.”

 

“Eh, I’ve dealt with worse,” he brushed it off with a nonchalant shrug, “You’ve got nothing on a teenaged Lisa.”

 

“Still, you take care of me. I should help take care of you.” Her gentle nuzzling moved from his shoulder to the curve of his neck, his skin feeling even better than the shirt. He stilled beneath her, and she noticed that they’d stopped walking.

 

“Iris…” he growled warningly. He caught her hands that had been idly running over his chest without her permission, pulling her in front of him so she had to look him in the eye. “You don’t have to do anything.”

 

“What if I want to?” she asked innocently. Her keen eyes caught the way his pupils dilated as his irises flashed red for a moment. She grinned coyly up at him, leaning forward. He jerked back.

 

“No. You’re high. You don’t know what you want.”

 

“Yes, I do!” Iris insisted, actually stamping her foot as she pouted. She fought down a sudden wave of dizziness.

 

“No,” he countered softly, “you don’t. Now come on.” He resumed pulling her down the street. “We need to get you home.”

 

“I don’t wanna go home!” Iris decided, stubbornly digging her heels in. If Leonard was just going to be cold, she wanted to go back to the club, where everything had felt so smooth and ethereal and alive. She slipped out of his hold, with every intention of heading back, only to be stopped in her first step by an iron grip around her wrist.

 

“Iris, come on,” he commanded, but Iris shook her head.

 

“No, I wanna go back! You were nice at the club.”

 

“No, we're going home.”

 

“Go without me then!” Iris kept fighting his hold trying to break free.

 

“ **_IRIS_**!” he thundered. Iris physically stumbled under the weight of his voice, the supernatural authority it held snatching her attention.

 

“I...what-”

 

“Iris, you are out of your mind right now, the last thing I'm going to do is let you wander off to get yourself killed or exposed. Now **_come with me._** ”

 

Iris found herself jumping to follow him, his command giving her a sudden stab of clarity. The desire to obey was bone-deep and primal, something she was in no state to fight. The world spun around her and she finally noticed just how wrong and utterly out of control she felt. Leonard looked back at her with something that could have been remorse and determination, but she couldn’t be sure.

 

“I...I don’t like this. Make it stop,” she implored weakly, her own voice sounding far away to her ears.

  
“It will,” he assured her, his voice painfully gentle after his harsh command. “We just need to get some clean blood in you.” His hands were almost hesitant now as he pulled her close, hoisting her into his arms so he could run back to the empty house. Iris tucked her face into his chest, the speed making her dizzy and nauseous. She let the rhythm of his heart and his feet hitting the pavement ground her, repeating in her head that it would all be over once they got home. She didn’t think to wonder when exactly his house had become her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember kids; don't do drugs, it might fuck up a vampire.


	7. Accord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard understands Iris a little more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely forgot I've had this sitting on my computer for a while.

Leonard watched over Iris as she slept off the effects of the drugs. She looked so vulnerable curled up against his side, pale and miserable even in sleep. There was a small line between her brows that an irrational part of him ached to smooth away. He told himself that if he'd had any true inkling of how much becoming a sire would affect him, he never would have turned her. But it was moments like this that made him doubt he could ever have turned away and left her to her fate. It wasn’t just that she was his progeny that she affected him so deeply. There was just something about Iris that drew him in, that made him want to see how she ticked, to know every inch of her. She was a challenge, an uncrackable safe that he just couldn't resist testing himself against. 

 

When fate had put her in his path, Leonard hadn't understood just what it was that had compelled him to save her in the most invasive of ways. He hadn't known her well, only as the Flash’s foster sister and a competent journalist. Now, he thought that was exactly it. He had known her just enough, enough to recognise her intelligence and strength, enough for his monster to see the potential in her. He'd known she'd be strong, a perfect predator despite her morality. And he’d known she would push him, test him in a way no one else ever had. 

 

Next to him, Iris shook a little in her sleep, her closed fist clenching. Leonard gently carded his fingers through her hair, watching as the contact soothed her. He firmly ignored the warmth he felt at that. It seemed that she was warming up to him, especially if her actions at the club had been any indication. However, there was no way for him to know if that was real or if it was caused by the sire’s bond. Granted, he’d never had any particularly strong feelings for his own sire beyond loyalty and respect. But that was the only explanation he had for why her behaviour had changed. She didn’t seem the type to tease just to be cruel.

 

Iris shook again, curling in even closer, her closed fist clutching the material of his shirt. A tiny, muffled sob reached his ears and he realised she was crying. Historically, Leonard didn't do well with crying, not when it was someone he cared about. But he couldn't bring himself to leave, not when she so clearly needed him. So despite his own discomfort, Leonard wrapped his arms around her and let her sob quietly into his chest as he ran a soothing hand over her hair. It felt oddly momentous, as though this act of vulnerability and comfort was more intimate and important than even the act of turning her had been.

 

“I wish I could hate you.”

 

Anyone else would not have been able to hear the murmured declaration, but Leonard's inhuman ears heard it easily. His hand stilled as the words sent a stab of misery through his heart that he was entirely unprepared for. He already knew that her opinion of him was rather low, but to hear it said so bluntly was unexpectedly painful.

 

“But I can't.”

 

Leonard didn't quite know what to say to that. He didn't even really understand what she meant. She couldn't hate him? There was nothing stopping her, as far as he knew. His hand resumed the stroking motion and she exhaled shakily.

 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, because that was all he really could say. He had done this to her, changed her viscerally without her permission and now, for some reason, she couldn't even hate him for it. 

 

“I know. That’s why I can’t.”

 

There was something about words whispered in the dark that gave them so much more weight. Leonard felt like he finally understood her a little more, with so few short and simple words exchanged between them. He had done this to her and she would never thank him for it, but she did appreciate the things he had done since to ease her transition. It seemed that she understood him better than he’d thought, enough to possibly even forgive him. This felt like a turning point for them; they were no longer just reluctant teacher and student, but on the path to forging something deeper. Leonard didn’t know what Iris would be to him in time, but he also knew he’d gone too far down the path to turn back now. His feisty progeny had wormed her way under his skin since the first time she’d hissed at him. He also knew himself well enough to admit that he found this revelation daunting. He’d ventured into unknown territory the day he changed her, and Iris seemed to keep finding new ways to change the terrain just as he was getting used to it.

 

“For what it’s worth,” he murmured after a time, “I don’t hate you either.”

 

_ I’m glad you don’t hate me _ was what went unsaid, a confession that would have left him far too vulnerable and exposed. He allowed himself this compromise, a piece of him hoping she would hear what he couldn’t yet say. For a moment he thought she had fallen back to sleep, his words falling unanswered into the still night air, but then she shifted ever so slightly closer.

 

“Not hating each other. Seems like a good place to start.”


End file.
